It's Grεεκ To Me

This phrase arose in the Middle Ages to recognize the decline
of the use of the Greek language and alphabet.

Further popularized by Shakespeare in the 16th Centurywith his play The Tragedy of Julius Caesar:
CASSIUS: Did Cicero say anything?
CASCA: Ay, he spoke Greek.
CASSIUS: To what effect?
CASCA: Nay, an I tell you that, I’ll ne'er look you i' th' face again.
But those that understood him smiled at one another and shook their heads.
But, for mine own part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more news too.
Murellus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs off Caesar’s images, are put to silence.
Fare you well. There was more foolery yet, if I could remember it.

Regarding Bond films, there are Greek cultural items sprinkled among
mission plots and characters to be given context and understanding.

The Task: Identify items of Greek myth and culture in Bond book or film.

Can be character names, mentions in dialogue, locations,
use of Greek words, philosophy, myth, history, wine and other
spirits, food and other cultural staples.

You name the item and film or book: then it will be given more detail.

Based on responses, beyond Greek this discussion can absorb related language and culture.

My plan is to follow the style that evolved on the Birding Bond discussion, so I'm on the hook to give initial detail. Of course the floor is always open to the board audience for their input and new directions.

As someone who's held a fascination for ancient Greece and Greek mythology since childhood but rarely taken the opportunity in adulthood to explore the field in-depth, I eagerly look forward to what this thread unfolds. If it does for ancient Greece what your bird thread did for ornithurae, I will be in the realm of the gods.

Elektra: Greek tragedy, versions by Euripides and Sophocles. Daughter of King Agamemnon and Queen Clytemnestra, of Mycenae. Sister to Iphigenia, Chrysothemis, Orestes. With Orestes, plotted the murder of their mother Clytemnestra and Aegisthus (her lover), as revenge for murdering their father.

On returning from the Trojan War King Agamemnon was murdered by his wife and her lover. Agamemnon earlier sacrificed their daughter (Iphigenia) to Artemis then departed to Troy--his wife never forgave him for this act, and also suspected he murdered her first husband. Agamemnon's traveling consort Cassandra warned him of the plan, still he was killed on arrival.

So the children retreated to Athens. Orestes sought guidance from the Oracle of Delphi. The prescription: seek revenge for the death of Agamemnon, their father. At Mycenae, assisted by Elektra and also by cousin and best friend Pylades, Orestes himself killed his mother and the lover, but not before being cursed by Clytemnestra. The curse: to be chased by the Furies (or Erinyes), punishers of those who commit matricide and violence.

Elektra sought and achieved revenge, but by not committing the physical act she escaped haunting by the Furies. (There are variations on the story for Elektra's involvement, and whether she suffered a price by assisting murderous acts.)

For Your Eyes Only, John Glen, 1981.
Melina Havelock recognizes her Greek heritage on the death of her parents.

Bond: The Chinese have a saying--"Before setting out on revenge, you first dig two graves."

Melina: I don't expect you to understand. You're English, but I'm half Greek.
And Greek women, like Electra...always avenge their loved ones.

The World Is Not Enough, Michael Apted, 1999.
A very different Elektra than from myth. Selfish. Outright mad.

M: So you killed your father.

Elektra: He killed me. He killed me the day he refused to pay my ransom.

M: Was this all about the oil?

Elektra: It is my oil. Mine...and my family's. It runs in my veins, thicker than blood.
I'm going to redraw the map. And when I'm through, the whole world will know my name...
...my grandfather's name, the glory of my people!

Interestingly, I took another look at the Ian Fleming story and it references more English lore than Greek.

For Your Eyes Only, Ian Fleming, 1960.
"For Your Eyes Only"

...
The girl looked like a beautiful unkempt dryad in ragged shirt and trousers. The shirt and trousers were olive green, crumpled and splashed with mud and stains and torn in places, and she had bound her pale blonde hair with golden-rod to conceal its brightness for her crawl through the meadow. The beauty of her face was wild and rather animal, with a wide sensuous mouth, high cheekbones and silvery grey, disdainful eyes. There was the blood of scratches on her forearms and down one cheek, and a bruise had puffed and slightly blackened the same cheekbone. The metal feathers of a quiver full of arrows showed above her left shoulder. Apart from the bow, she carried nothing but a hunting knife at her belt and, at her other hip, a small brown canvas bag that presumably carried her food. She looked like a beautiful, dangerous customer who knew wild country and forests and was not afraid of them. She would walk alone through life and have little use for civilisation.

Bond thought she was wonderful. He smiled at her. He said softly, reassuringly: "I suppose you're Robina Hood. My name's James Bond." He reached for his flask and unscrewed the top and held it out. "Sit down and have a drink of this — firewater and coffee. And I've got some biltong. Or do you live on dew and berries?"

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